The Elusive Tammy in Her Natural Habitat

Shhhh. Be very quiet. We don't want to frighten away the Tammy. Peek carefuly through the stacks of payroll checks. Do you see her on her nest? You are fortunate to have a rare glimpse of the Tammy in her natural habitat.

Tammy is just her common name. She is actually called a Fabuloso Accounto Irreplaceabus. Most days she perches on her desk chair nest with flying fingers of calculation. Occasionally she hears a noise and runs for cover. Never fear Tammy. It is only the labrador TeeJaysus running at you to flush you from your nest.

OH! Look closely. This Tammy has a baby in her nest! What luck. We can observe the Tammy's parenting skills first hand. Tammy-babies are called Kaitlynias. See how the baby is so tiny and pretty? The Tammy has spent years guarding it from predators and teaching it to fly, swim, dance, and ride horses. The Kaitlynia is almost ready to leave the nest. Unlike other animals, the Tammy does not let the baby stray far when it is grown. If the Kaitlynia chooses to build her own nest too far away, the Tammy will simply move her own nest closer.

OH NO! There's a predator near the Kaitlynia! See how she swoops in and strangles them both? This momma is a force to be reckoned with.

The Tammy is a diligent worker. She seldom takes off from her duties as a fabuloso accounto irreplaceabus. If she did, the entire nest might crumble, starting a chain reaction that would eventually destroy us all.

Rumor has it that when the Tammy gets older and can no longer perform her duties, another Tammy will take over the nest. However, Tammies are becoming extinct. As a matter of fact, I've never seen another one. It is possible that she is the last of a dying breed. It's fortunate that this one is young enough to guard the nest for years to come. I fear for a future that has no Tammies.

The Legend of Mauka

Mauka, Mauka, Mauka. I'm so glad your name was pulled from the basket of despair today. That makes you the lucky winner of my Blog Spotlight. I shall introduce you to the world. There once was a young man named Mauka. He dreamed of one day having a noble and rewarding career in Religion. He was a humble boy who worked hard, studied the bible, and refrained from vulgar activities of any kind. One day Mauka looked in a mirror. He couldn't help but think, "Damn, I'm HOT." When the curse word entered his brain, the flood gates were opened and he began to change. First he grew his hair into flowing red locks. Then he began to work out... and get tattoos .... and chase women. Now young Mauka no longer wished to have a career in Religion. He wanted a fast car and a breezy life style. The only way to have the money and power of which he dreamed was to become ...you guessed it... a social worker. So, in January of 2011, a kind, generous, lovely woman named Jorgi hired him to be a case manager. Now Mauka's dreams were coming true. Now he was able to woo the hot chick, Meganne, with his extravagances. And they all lived happily ever after. Except for the coworkers. When interviewed regarding Mauka, Misty blushed and accidentally called him 'Fabio'. She went on to say that working in the office next to Mauka is very distracting because he is 'office eye candy'. She said he is not even a little bit 'freakn weird'. Poor Misty. Her unrequited love could pose a problem to our productivity. Pam, of course, loves Mauka for a different reason. He is taking her daughter, Meganne, off of Pam's hands. Pam occasionally twirls around her office singing, "I get my house back, I get my house back, lalalala, I get my house back." Also, the white chocolate macademia nut cookies he brought us has endeared him to the whole team. Some women drool over Mauka, Pam and I drool over his cookies. Seriously- Mauka is a fabulous addition to our team. He is 'naïve enough to think he can save the world', according to Pam. Personally, I think it's sad that Pam and I are so jaded, we believe we can't. Welcome to our team, Mauka. We promise we won't hang any mirrors near your office. That way you can get some work done.

My Mom (not her real name)

Oh, how you would love my mother. Do you think I'm warped? Well, she is warped-er. I am but a pale imitation of the original.

My mother has wrestled a giant turtle, faced down bullies, raised a horde of wild beast-children, and twirled as a 6 year old princess in a lemon-yellow ball gown. She has an incredibly dry sense of humor that leaves you laughing and wondering if she is serious at the same time. She is the only person I have ever met who can beat me at Trivial Pursuit. Check out the game tournaments on facebook. I play a game - any game - and she effortlessly waltzes in and beats my high score. Some mothers encourage their children and build their self esteem by letting them win. Not my mom. If you survived our household, you were strong enough to face the world.

I learned to walk on ice while she sat on the porch and laughed till she cried as I slipped and slid my way home from the bus stop. I'm pretty sure she would have come to help me if I had hurt more than my bottom, but maybe not. It's a toss of the dice with her.

When I was a girl, books were her life. She once crawled on top of the refrigerator so we couldn't reach her just so she could read in peace. If there weren't any books in the house that she hadn't read, she would re-read her favorites. I used to think that was a sign of her intelligence and thirst for knowledge. Now I realize the truth. Books are way more interesting than doing the dishes. No contest. They are even slightly more interesting than Walker Texas Ranger, but just barely.

My mom can cook, sew, can vegetables, twist the heads off of chickens, provide advanced first aid to pets and children (except for the chickens), and accurately pin point the faults of anyone I try to like. She can cuss like a truck driver, kill snakes, smoke a cigarette, plow a garden plot, and still manage to be completely ladylike.

I've seen pictures of her when she was young. She was completely gorgeous. My dad snagged her when they were still kids, otherwise, I'd probably be basking on the beach of my Mediterranean villa because my mother married a billionaire.

You may think that I'm insulting my mom, but she knows the truth. She knows that I have spent my entire adult life trying to be just like her. One of these days, when I beat her at Trivial Pursuit, her job will be finished and she can die in peace. Until then, she's going to kick my butt, pop my balloons, poke my ego, and still be my safety net.

Sunny Moments

A friend of mine just retired. When she was cleaning out her office, she discovered a file of newsletters that I had written in the 90's. The newletter was called Sunny Moments. It was a monthly humorous update on the social work adventures and personality characteristics of my coworkers. I had completely forgotten about Sunny Moments. I haven't worked in that office in 12 years and I've forgotten many of the private jokes that were alluded to in the writings. Still, it reminded me of something more important than long forgotten jokes. It reminded me that I have always loved to entertain people with my twisted musings. Why have I stopped? What happened to that version of me? In an effort to recapture my youth, I have decided that you, my dear reader(s), should be subjected to my profiles of people that I know. Keep reading. You may find yourself in this blog one day. :-)